


If Ever Again

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Arguing, F/M, Never again, post-episode
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 09:23:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17139191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: A requested post-ep to Never Again.  Mulder and Scully hash things out.  Sort of.





	If Ever Again

Never has there been a worse time to be on a stakeout.  It could be worse though. It could be snowing. Or, considering it’s Texas, it could be hotter than hell.  At the very least, if he had to look on the bright side, Mulder could say it’s a nice, balmy 67 degrees outside.  Aside from that...he’s got nothing.

 

Scully hasn’t spoken a word to him since before they got on the plane to Dallas.  She’s asked him nothing about the casefile, made no comment about his vote for a good old fashioned stakeout, and hasn’t even complained about the six country music stations programmed into the rental cars’ radio presets.  She’s just been sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed, stiff as a statue, staring at the blank billboard they’ve been monitoring for over an hour. 

 

It wasn’t really the best time to be going out in the field, but cases don’t really schedule themselves around whether or not it’s convenient.  Mulder could’ve gone by himself, but then Scully would be even more mad at him than she already was. 

 

Mulder shifts uncomfortably in the seat.  His knees are beginning to ache and his lower back needs to be stretched.  He hunches over the steering wheel and turns his shoulders from side to side a little.  In his periphery, he catches Scully pressing her lips into a tighter line in annoyance. Her nostrils flare just a little as well.  Now annoyed himself, Mulder flicks the radio off and drops back against his seat again.

 

“You didn’t have to wait four years to ask for a desk, you know?” he says.  Scully’s eyes do not waver from the billboard. Her head doesn’t turn. Her arms stay crossed.  “You’re being childish.”

 

That oughta get her riled up, he thinks, but she says nothing and he sighs.  He fumbles with the lever next to his seat to push it back a little further, but he pulls the wrong one and his seat back springs up and knocks him forward.  Scully doesn’t even crack a smile at his misfortune and that really just pisses him off. He yanks the lever again and shoves his seat back a little more aggressively than necessary.

 

“Fine,” he says.  “I’ll requisition a new partner along with the desk when we get back.”

 

“Good luck with that,” she answers.  “Who else would put up with your crap?”

 

“Oh, look who’s decided to join the conversation.”

 

“I’m doing my job, Mulder.  I’m here to stakeout this billboard, not entertain you.”

 

“Well you...Scully, you’re bleeding…”

 

“What?”  She finally turns to him and touches her fingers to the abrasion on her forehead, but realizes a split second later that a slow trickle of blood is oozing from her nose.

 

Mulder reaches over her and pulls open the glove compartment box as she cups a hand beneath her chin.  She angrily rips the napkin he finds out of his hand and presses it to her face. He watches intently with concern, wondering what the hell kind of damage Jerse did to her that would cause her nose to bleed three days later.

 

“Scully, if you needed more time-”

 

“I’m fine,” she snaps, turning her shoulder away from him so he can’t see her face.

 

Like hell, he thinks.  He sits back and squeezes the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white.  “Why, Scully?”

 

Her voice is muffled by the hand at her face.  “Why what, Mulder?” 

 

“Why’d you do it?  Why did you go home with a dangerous man?  Why did you...why’d you have to…”

 

“First of all, I did not go home with a  _ dangerous _ man.”

 

“You’re right, only a true gentleman tries to kill a lady and stuff her in an incinerator.”

 

“That was not his fault, that was the effects of the ergot.”  With her free hand, Scully adjusts the visor and looks into the small embedded mirror, tilting her head back and to the side before cautiously taking the napkin from her face.  She slides her hardened gaze over to Mulder and adjusts the mirror again so he can’t see her eyes. 

 

“That’s supposed to make a difference?”

 

“I went home with a  _ man _ , plain and simple, which, let’s be honest, is the part that really bothers you.”

 

“Of course it bothers me!”

 

“Why should it?”

 

“You put yourself at risk.”

 

“Of what?  Having a good time?”

 

“Of...of...potential...there are STDs and…”

 

“Did you think about that the summer of ‘94?”

 

“What?”

 

“I’m just asking, because I read the files from when I was missing.  Did you think about risks the summer of ‘94. What was her name? Kristen something.  Or did you think about risks with Detective White? How about Dr. Bambi ‘her parents were naturalists’ Barenbaum?”

 

Mulder shakes his head, incredulous.  “And...and so...this was about getting back at me somehow?  You were jealous?”

 

“Jesus, this is so typical.  I already told you, not everything is about you, Mulder.  I’m pointing out the double standard here. Why is it somehow okay for you to sleep your way across the country with every woman that crosses your path, but when I want to do the same, just once, suddenly I’m the one being irresponsible?”

 

“Because you’re trying to ignore the fact that you almost got yourself killed!”

 

“And you’re ignoring the fact that if it hadn’t been for that ergot, Ed Jerse would’ve just been some guy, some  _ nice _ guy I picked up, and let me stress that again in case you didn’t hear me, some nice guy that  _ I _ picked up in a tattoo parlor and spent the night with.  And you want to know the stupidest part of it, Mulder? Sleeping is all that happened.  Because I had to have a god damn  _ fucking nosebleed _ when he’d barely gotten my shirt off so all of this and I didn’t even get the pleasure of fucking a virtual stranger.  That’s all I wanted. I just...I just…”

 

Scully trails off and lowers her head.  Mulder watches twin teardrops fall to her lap and mark her skirt.  He feels sick and a little numb. Another nosebleed? She didn’t sleep with Jerse?  He should be relieved by this, but her regretful tone twists his stomach into knots.  Why would she want that?

 

“Why would you want that?” he blurts.  “Why, Scully? When...god, you deserve to…”

 

“What I  _ deserve _ , Mulder, is to have meaningless sex if I want it.  You of all people should know what that’s like.”

 

Her words sting a little and not because they’re true, but because she thinks they are.  He doesn’t know how she got that impression of him when it’s been more than obvious that he gets more action from his own right hand than he does with a woman.  Sure, he has a nice collection of porn and 900 numbers on speed dial, but that’s exactly the point. Fantasy is safe. Fantasy isn’t meaningless.

 

“I’ve never had a one night stand,” he says.

 

Scully’s head snaps up and she glares at him.  “Bull shit,” she hisses.

 

“You want to hurl accusations at me, go ahead, but I never slept with Detective White, I never slept with Dr. Barenbaum, I  _ don’t _ sleep with every woman that crosses my path, as you so nicely put it, and the woman you happened to read about, Kristen Kilar, she wasn’t a one-night stand, even if it was only for one night, because I didn’t intend for it to be just one night, and it wasn’t meaningless.  Not to me. So I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but no, I  _ don’t _ know what that’s like.”

 

The car falls into an extended silence.  Mulder returns to white-knuckling the steering wheel and Scully dabs at the flaky residue beneath her nose.  The stupid billboard they’re there to watch remains blindingly white and blank. No mysterious images have appeared and Mulder knows they probably won’t either.  They’re on a pointless stakeout having a pointless argument. He sees Scully slump down in her seat and her head lolls towards the window.

 

He strains his neck forward a little because can’t seem to make his voice work.  “You could’ve…”

 

“Could’ve what?” she murmurs.

 

It takes him a few more moments to work up the courage to finish his sentence.  “Come to me. You could’ve...come to me. With your...”

 

“That’s not possible and we both know it.”

 

“If it’s just one night you want, I could...it would never be meaningless, but I could…”

 

“Mulder.”  She reaches over and touches his knee with the tips of her fingers.

 

“Just...promise me you’ll be careful.  That...that next time you’ll…”

 

A strange look comes over her face and her mouth opens slightly like she wants to say something, but she’s holding back.  She takes her hand away and turns her head, running a knuckle back and forth beneath her bottom lip.

 

“How about you just let me know when you’re capable of something meaningless?” she asks.

 

“If you’ll come to me when you’re looking for something meaning _ ful _ ,” he responds.

 

She glances in his direction, but not exactly at him.  He hunches forward and peers up at the billboard.

 

“I don’t think anything’s going to come of this,” he says.  “The billboard, I mean.”

 

“What did you expect?”

 

“Well, I always expect something.  Just not now. I think we should head back to Dallas.  Try another angle.”

 

“Fine.”

 

Mulder adjusts his seat and pulls his seatbelt on.  He pauses with his hand on the keys to start the ignition and looks at Scully.  “The nosebleeds,” he says. “Is everything alright?”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

He wants to call her on it, make her promise to see a doctor or something.  People don’t just get nosebleeds. At least, he doesn’t think so. He doesn’t press, though.  He starts the car, finds a decent radio station, and drives back to Dallas.

 

The End


End file.
